Her head angled to Her brushing so generously so Much of

harsh winds barber rows of sunflowers: yellow carpet laid

moon drips cream so it seems to the one-eyed cat

The alley mutts at dawn crawl from their nightly hells to gobble what they can find— half-eaten garbage or other kind. Sated, they give kingly yawns

long-winded soliloquies years years of them pouring through my nicely clef-whorled ears now my face is cloven

Wearing a flowing purple workman’s… water beaker in hand he anoints the baby palm with the gift of splashing water, and mutters ancient Arabic verse